


Like Sleep to the Freezing

by saellys



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Gen, Post-Movie, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-OT3, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 15:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5544629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saellys/pseuds/saellys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe has seen her close her eyes, but not actually sleep. In another day the Falcon will be stocked and ready to fly, and he thinks maybe she’s trying to memorize Finn before she leaves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Sleep to the Freezing

There’s something about sleeping sitting up. It’s too easy for Poe’s subconscious to take him back there--blood on his face and cuffs on his wrists and a scream tearing out of his throat. He has to get a handle on this before his next long hyperspace jump, because jerking awake and grabbing the first thing he can reach is not going to work out well for him in an X-wing cockpit. 

He catches his breath, and discovers that he grabbed Rey’s hand. He lets go gingerly, whispers, “Sorry.” Finn told him how much she hates that.

Rey doesn’t look away from Finn’s face, doesn’t even seem to hear him over the gentle rhythmic tone that mirrors Finn’s pulse. Poe has seen her close her eyes, but not actually sleep. In another day the  _ Falcon _ will be stocked and ready to fly, and he thinks maybe she’s trying to memorize Finn before she leaves. 

A heartbeat later she puts her hand over Poe’s, tucks her cool fingers against his palm, and Poe stares. “Do you want to talk about it?” Rey says softly.

He really, really doesn’t. What a mess that bastard made, of all three of them. “Can’t you read my mind?” 

It’s a sorry excuse for a joke, and Rey doesn’t smile. The gaze she turns on him is unfathomably solemn. “I will never do that to you,” she tells him. 

Her word choice isn’t lost on him--this isn’t a protest about the strength of her character. It’s a promise. Poe nods, and Rey looks back at Finn. A moment later her eyelids drift closed and her breathing deepens. 

Poe feels emboldened to ask, “What are you doing, when you do that? Some kind of Jedi thing?” 

“I can’t explain it,” she says, “but I can show you, if you want.” 

In the time it takes him to decide whether he wants that, her fingers warm in his hand. “Okay,” he says. 

A heaviness settles in his limbs, a physical security, a balm for his raw nerves. With it comes, paradoxically, the sensation of floating--

No, no, that’s love filling him up, making him buoyant. Every possible kind. An ocean of it. Or is he actually seeing an ocean? Is that an island? 

Poe lets go of Rey’s hand again, and she withdraws from him at once. He lets the stillness stretch, mindful of his now steady breath and unhurried pulse. She probably wouldn’t mind if he didn’t say anything--they’ve spent the majority of their time at Finn’s side in silence--but he feels that this should be acknowledged. “Bet he’s gonna miss that while you’re away.” 

With her eyes still closed, still broadcasting to Finn, Rey says, “He’ll have you.” 

All of a sudden that floating feeling is back. Treading carefully, he replies, “Well, I’m gonna miss it.” 

Rey smiles. 


End file.
